


Let it Burn

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Banter, F/M, Fluff, Morning After, Pre 2x17, post 2x16, wearing each other's clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after the events of Light a Match (Start a Fire), Happy wakes up with the familiar impulse to run away from what she feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Quintis+ Happy in toby's shirt," and based on some of the spoilers we've gotten for 2x17 Fractured.

Toby’s still asleep when Happy wakes up, feeling warm and content for the first time in ages, with something else in the background. She turns to Toby, because she has to convince herself, just a little bit, that the night before was real, that it happened.

He looks like he’s in his twenties when he sleeps, she notices, and the sunlight streaming in makes his hair look more red than usual. It takes a few moments to run through their history to reach this place before she understands that they made it to this part and the collapse hasn't happened. Happy reminds herself that he hasn’t run away, that she hasn’t left yet. That he’s seen her at her worst and still wants to be with her anyway.

But something isn’t sitting well in her and she can’t figure out why.

She sits up and stretches, unsure of why she woke up at sunrise, until she looks over and realizes the sunlight shining on Toby had also fallen directly on her face.

"Damn sun," she mutters under her breath. She grabs Toby shirt from where it rests on the bedpost and throws it on, wary of the open blinds and first story apartment window, as she goes to close the curtains. The floor is scattered with clothes and blankets where they'd kicked them off in the night, and the room looks so different from what she wakes up to in her own apartment. She wonders if she belongs here, if she can fit into Toby's life without disrupting all he's built.

A voice breaks though her rapidly escalating thoughts. “And I thought you looked good in my robe.”

Happy turns around to see Toby with the most besotted smile on his face.

“What are you looking at?” Happy asks, and it’s strange that she feels vulnerable and exposed when she spent the entirety of last night naked in bed with Toby. And not just in bed - on the living room couch, on chairs. Last night she had no hesitations in the moment, but the reality rose with the sun and now she wonders if it was the right move.

“Just the most beautiful woman in the world,” he replies, propping his head up on his hand. Something about the ease in his moves and words makes her feel like she’s doing something wrong, like this should be easier, more seamless. 

“When did you get to be so smooth?” Happy asks, sitting back on the bed. For some reason she keeps distance between the two of them, enough space that if he reached out for her, he’d only just be able to touch her.

He notices.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. When she looks at him, Happy expects to see his Doctor Face trying to read her mind. Instead there’s just honest concern layered with something else she can’t quite name.

Happy nods, and she feels herself curl up, knees drawn to her chest. “I’m fine.”

Toby looks shattered, and she’s not sure why. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?” Happy asks. It makes so little sense that she drops her defenses. “Did you do something I’m unaware of in the three seconds I’ve been out of bed?”

“I think I made you uncomfortable,” Toby says. “And I’m sorry if I did.”

“You?” Happy scoffs. “Yeah, it’s not you.” It would never be him getting in the way. And she knows it.

“It’s not?”

“No,” Happy says. She doesn’t know how to speak what's flooding her mind, so she makes herself move closer to him. She slides under his blankets and settles next to him. Running from him is the wrong decision, she tells herself. But it takes some convincing.

“You’re okay?” Toby asks, looking confused.

“Not really,” Happy replies, poking at his chest. “But I will be. Now roll. You’re my pillow.”

He flops onto his back, and Happy pillows her head on his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. She sighs. “It’s just,” she searches for the words, “this is going to take a while to get used to.”

“That’s okay,” Toby says. He’s not touching her except for playing with her hair, clearly keeping a little bit of distance. Happy appreciates it, but she wishes she didn’t need it.

“No,” Happy explains. “I mean. I’ve never wanted something to work like this.”

His hand stills. “Meaning,” he says slowly, “us?”

“Yeah,” Happy replies, and, god, it’s so much easier to speak when she doesn’t have to look at his face. As much as she likes the way he looks at her, sometimes it’s too much when she’s trying to get out what she needs to say. “I’m not used to being happy with somebody else."

“I think I know what you mean,” Toby says slowly, playing with her hair again.

She’s quiet for a minute. “I’m scared I’m going to ruin it,” she says, so quietly that she’s not sure he’s going to hear.

To her surprise, he laughs. “I’ve already ruined it once,” Toby replies, moving his hand to rest on her shoulder. “If you do, then we’re even.”

“Yeah, well,” Happy replies, “I’m done ruining this, Toby. I already messed up with the Chet thing. I’m done getting in my own way.” She finally looks at him. “And you better not get in the way, either.”

“Hey,” says Toby, “I’ve wanted to be yours since the moment I met you.”

“You were engaged when we met,” Happy retorts.

There’s a tiny secret quirk on his lips. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think you were beautiful.”

Happy groans and rolls her eyes. “Cheese ball.”

“Your cheese ball,” Toby replies, kissing her forehead.

Nobody’s ever touched her with that much care before. Touches, to Happy, were always purposeful before this, never affectionate. To direct her somewhere, to stop her from doing something, to fix something. Now there’s Toby, who, for years, has given a comforting touch to her back, smoothed her hair, rested his hand on hers. She always thought they were pointless.

But she wonders, just a little bit, if the meaning was just to remind her that he was there.

She rolls closer to him, holding him tight, and she’s silent for a while. Toby follows her lead, and his steady breathing is an unexpected comfort. All the anxiety about what this means fades away as she feels herself matching each of his breaths, and she finds herself dozing off again.

She wakes up a few hours later with Toby's arms around her and, instead of feeling caged, she feels comforted.

She keeps her eyes closed, wrapping her arm around Toby’s waist.

“Morning,” Toby mumbles, running his fingertips along her shoulders.

“Morning,” Happy replies.

She hears Toby yawn. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch,” she says, trying not to grin too widely. Something broke in those early hours of the day, the impulse to destroy, escape, avoid faded into the realization that maybe, just maybe, she doesn't need to run anymore.

Toby groans. “Oh, god,” he says. “Are you serious? Is this what I’m going to wake up to every morning? Your comedy routine?”

Happy laughs. “Maybe. I’ll try out my jokes on you.” She looks up at him. “If you laugh, I know you’re just doing it to be nice.”

“I promise you right now,” Toby says, “I’ll never laugh at your bad jokes.”

“What about my good jokes?” Happy asks.

Toby shrugs. “You’ll have to make some good jokes first.”

Happy gently punches his arm. “Jackass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Happy throws a leg over his hips and straddles his legs, looking down at him. “Asshole.”

“I’d respond, but I’m distracted by the fact that you're still wearing my Harvard shirt,” he slides his hands along Happy’s thighs, and she’s suddenly very aware that they’re both naked and they have all the time in the world. "God, you look good."

“I’m distracted by your hands on my legs,” Happy manages. His fingers slide around her back and under the hem of her shirt as he sits up, making them eye to eye. Her eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips, and she finds herself surprised that she still doesn’t feel like running. Usually she makes it to the morning after and nothing further than that. Usually she’s out of the apartment by now, made some excuse why it’s not going to work.

It's real, though. She doesn’t want to be anywhere by here. There's no reason to run.

“You’re thinking really loudly,” says Toby, and Happy realizes he’s been still the whole time she’s been working through everything.

“I want to stay,” Happy blurts out.

Toby looks confused. “For as long as you want,” he replies.

“No, I mean,” Happy takes a minute to gather her thoughts. “I want to stay with you. I want to make this real.”

Toby lights up like a damn Christmas tree. “Like – telling people?”

“You might want to ask me to be your girlfriend first so we have something to tell,” Happy says, letting her lips quirk into a half smile.

Toby settles his hands against her neck, thumb running along her jawline, “Happy Quinn,” he murmurs, “want to be my girlfriend?”

“Christ, that was lame,” Happy replies, rolling her eyes. “Put some flair into it.”

She sees something a little devious in his smile, and it bodes well. With one hand steady on her back, he flips them so she’s on her back, and she laughs.

“Happy,” he says, interrupting himself by kissing her with a fire behind it. His hands push up her shirt, dancing tantalizingly against her skin in a way that makes her ache for more. “I want you to be my girlfriend. And I say fuck it to Walter’s rule,” he kisses her again, “because he’s stupid. And he’s wrong.” She sits up just far enough to kiss him. “So be my girlfriend,” he says, “because, like you’ve said, we’ve been getting in the way of this for too long. I want to be with you." He grins down at her. "So what do you say?”

“Now that,” Happy says, grinning, “was impressive.”

“Want to see something a little more impressive?” Toby asks.

Happy shrugs. “Better than last night? Because that’s a hard act to follow.”

Toby wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ve got a whole bag of tricks you haven’t seen yet.”

“I’d sure as hell hope so,” Happy replies. “We’ve only slept together once.”

“Three times!” Toby argues. “In one night.”

Happy shrugs. “Semantics.” She grins at him. “So,” she shrugs, “we’ve got a whole day in front of us. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I want to fuck you while you wear my tee shirt,” Toby says, and when the words come out, it’s almost as if he didn’t expect himself to say it. His eyes widen.

“I think we can arrange that,” Happy says. She hauls him in for a kiss, locking her legs around his hips.

“God, you’re perfect,” Toby groans. He kisses her, hot and wet, and she moans a little against his lips. She grabs at his shoulders, trying to hold him as close as possible.

"Wait a second," Toby says, looking a little flustered. "You never answered."

"Hmm?" Happy replies, hardly hearing him.

"You didn't say you want to be my girlfriend," Toby says, peppering kisses along her neck. "You've got to answer."

"I figured the fact that I made you ask was an answer enough," she replies, arching into the way his hands brush across her sides.

He looks at her. "I want to hear you say it," he says, nearly pouting.

"Yes," Happy says. "I'll be your girlfriend. Now go back to what you were doing."

"Gladly," Toby replies, and just as he leans down to kiss her again, the phone starts ringing.

“I’m going to kill him.” Toby says, dropping his head to Happy’s shoulder.

"Is it Walter?" Happy asks.

Toby nods. “The asshole gets in the way of everything.”

“Let’s fuck with him,” Happy says. “Give me the phone.”

“Is that really a good idea?” Toby asks.

Happy shrugs. “Probably not. But any opportunity to mess with Walter is an opportunity I’m going to take.”

“Can’t argue with that.” He reaches over and pulls the phone off its charger and hands it to Happy, settling back against his pillows. “Good luck.”

“Hello?” she says.

“Happy?” Walter says. “Sorry, I meant to call Toby.” And he hangs up.

Happy sighs, and the phone rings again.

“Hi, Walter,” Happy says.

“Something must be wrong with my phone,” Walter says, sounding confused.

“No, you’re phone’s fine,” Happy replies. “I’m answering Toby’s phone at nine in the morning.”

“You – oh,” Walter’s tone is absolute shock. “What?”

"I'm at Toby's place," Happy adds, "and not because I came here for breakfast. Got it yet?"

"Are you two -" Walter sputters.

“Yeah,” Happy says. “Get over it.”

“We need to have a team meeting about this,” Walter sputters. “I am calling everyone in today. Ten-thirty.”

Happy groans. “It’s a Saturday.”

“You’re breaking the fraternization rule,” Walter replies. "Weekends don't apply."

Happy sighs. “You're being an asshole.”

“Just – be at the garage!” And he hangs up.

Happy turns to Toby.

“I think that went well,” Toby says optimistically.

Happy scoffs. “Yeah,” she says, rolling her eyes as she gets out of his bed, “we’re going into work on a weekend to get yelled at. It went great.”

“Could you, uh,” Toby grins, “could you maybe keep the shirt on?”

Happy laughs. “I think that’s pushing it. Doc. We don’t want to give Walter a heart attack.”

“Or,” Toby says, walking to his dresser, “we do.”

Happy laughs as she pulls of his shirt. “Get,” Happy throws the shirt at him, “dressed.”

“If my girlfriend insists,” he says, grinning at her.

Happy shrugs. “If that's what will get you dressed," she says, chucking a pair of jeans at him as she catches her bag that Toby tossed to her from the living room, "then yeah. Your girlfriend insists."

He grins at her. "I like the sound of that."

She rolls her eyes at him, but she's grinning too.


End file.
